The Billionaire's Ruthless Affair

‘Hi there,’ she answered, careful not to say Alex’s name.

‘I presume you’re still at the pub,’ he ground out.

‘Yes, I am.’

‘Don’t say my name,’ he warned her sharply.

‘I won’t. What’s up?’ If he was calling to tell her not to come, she would just die.

‘Is there any chance you can make it before nine?’ he asked.

Nine was the time he’d designated before he’d left the office that morning, giving her a key-card at the same time so that she could access the building and the private lift to the penthouse.

‘I’m going insane here,’ he added thickly.

The passion and the urgency in his voice was both flattering and arousing. Not that Harriet needed arousing. She was already burning for him.

‘Me, too,’ she said quietly.

‘Have you eaten?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Then don’t. I’ve organised something for later. Can you come straight away?’

‘I should be able to. I’ll catch a taxi and meet you there ASAP. Bye.’

Putting her phone away, she rose and threw Audrey an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry to abandon you so early, but I’m needed.’

‘Oh?’

‘A married girlfriend of mine has the chance of a rare night out while her husband minds the baby, so we’re off to a movie together.’

‘What are you going to see?’

‘Have no idea. Have to go. See you on Monday.’ And she bolted before Audrey could ask her any more awkward questions.

The hotel was within walking distance of the taxi rank down at the quay. Harriet didn’t have to wait too long before she was climbing into the back seat and giving the driver Alex’s address. But it was Friday night, of course, with Friday night traffic. Her level of frustration rose when it took ten minutes to go three blocks. She sent Alex a text message explaining she was on her way but the traffic was heavy.

No sweat, came his reply. I’ll meet you downstairs.

He was standing on the pavement by the time she climbed out of the taxi, dressed in a black tracksuit with a white T-shirt underneath and white trainers. Harriet still had on the tailored black suit and white silk blouse that she’d worn to work, actually having planned to go home before coming here tonight to shower and change into something more feminine. She’d also planned to put on the new sexy black underwear that she’d bought this week.

During the ride in the taxi, she’d regretted not having the opportunity to dolly herself up for Alex, but at the sight of him she no longer cared. The way he was looking at her made her not care about anything but being here with him.

He didn’t say a word, just took her arm and urged her through the revolving glass doors inside the foyer, which was modern and spacious with a large reception desk, behind which sat two burly security guards studying computer screens. They didn’t even look up as Alex steered her across the vast expanse of marble tiled floor to an alcove which housed the lifts. There were four in all, Alex choosing the one marked for private use only. The doors opened immediately, Alex ushering her into the lavishly appointed lift that had lots of brass and glass, along with far too much lighting. Harriet could see her reflection everywhere, forcing her to note her flushed face and her over-bright eyes.

‘How long have you lived here?’ she asked him in an effort to break the tension which was almost killing her. If her heart beat any faster, she was sure it would explode.

Alex pressed the button which had the lift doors closing with barely a sound before he turned and answered her.

‘About three years. I bought it off-plan five years ago before it was even built and before the market went crazy. God, but it’s been a long week. I have to kiss you, Harry. I simply can’t wait.’ He pulled her into his arms and kissed her right there in the lift. Even when it reached its destination, and the doors slid quietly open, the kissing didn’t stop. By then he’d rammed her up against the mirrored back wall, the coldness of the glass seeping through her jacket. Not that she cared. She was way too hot to care about such a small discomfort. By then her handbag had fallen from numb fingers and her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck. His hands were much busier, hitching up her skirt, pushing aside her panties.

She moaned when his fingers found their target. God, she was close to coming. And she didn’t care. She needed to come. Yes, yes, just keep doing that; all her muscles tensed in anticipation of release from the madness which was possessing her.

His taking his hand away brought a groan of despair, her eyes flying open when his head lifted. His expression was wry and knowing.